Kismet
by Annilaia
Summary: AU AH "I want to fall in love with you" was all the postcard in his hand said.
1. Bella

**Hey there!**

**This is one I've had in my mind for about a year. I wrote down this first chapter a while ago, but I'm only now deciding to post it.**

**This story was inspired by a website called sleeptrip dot com slash 300 love letters.**

**I'll link to it on my profile and write an LJ about the entire inspiration progress soon. Basically, this woman decided to write 300 love letters to random people, they were about different subjects, and several people received more than one. She sent them out anonymously, but documented them all. I thought it was such a beautiful idea, and of course, as I would, also thought 'what would happen if Bella did that'**

**So here it is.  
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Chapter One: Bella**

"Bella I'm going to stay over to Jasper's tonight, you okay with that?"

"Sure Alice, it's no big deal," I said with a smile before turning back to my book. My housemate, Alice smiled widely at me and leaned over the couch to give me a hug before she grabbed her bag and coat and ran out the door.

Being herself she ran back in immediately after and stepped into the bathroom, reassessing her choice in wardrobe. She washed her face again and began applying her make up all over.

My friends and I had grown up in a small town in Washington called Forks. It rains more in that infinitesimally small town than any other place on the west coast. Alice, Rosalie and I had known each other since we were babies. It only made sense that we'd rent an apartment when we moved to Seattle for college. We'd been in the same place for the past two years, and I felt more like I was a permanent residence in the apartment than they were. They spent the majority of their time with their boyfriends; Jasper to Alice, and Emmett to Rosalie. Sure, they were all ridiculously cute together and just plain perfect for each other; but being a fifth wheel for the past two years was not fun.

I looked at the time and figured now was as good a time as any to run out and get some lunch. I put my book into a small messenger bag and grabbed my keys from the counter. I slipped into my converse and was about to open the door when it was pushed open, nearly hitting me in the face.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed.

"Sorry Bells!" Emmett chuckled as he stepped inside. Rosalie walked in behind him and smiled warmly at me.

"You going out for food?" Rosalie asked, kicking off her shoes. Alice threw her heels into the closet and pulled out a pair of flats, posing for Rosalie to see if the outfit was alright.

"Yep, talk to you guys later!" I said with a smile. Alice walked outside with me, gave me a peck on the cheek and then we were both on our separate ways. Our building was surprisingly close to campus, and in my second semester first year I had found a small, cozy cafe nearby that I'd made a habit of eating at. I spent nearly every lunch there with a book, enjoying the easy going music and the quiet people that sat there.

I stepped inside and the woman working at the counter looked up to smile and wave at me. I'd seen employees come and go, and they were all very familiar with me. I was one of the few regulars. I placed my bag on a small round table near a window. I walked up front to pay for a sandwich and a large tea before I carefully walked back to my spot to avoid tripping. I settled in with the book lying open on the table while I ate until all I had left was my tea which was cooled down to a satisfactory temperature.

I took a moment to look up at the other people in the cafe. There were only three people there besides myself. There was an indie couple sitting in a dark corner, their heads close together as they whispered to each other. Then there was just one man sitting next to a wall. He had a text book open in front of him and a picked apart muffin sitting on the table. There was a cup, similar to mine with steam rising out of it, but all of his attention was devoted to the text he was poring over.

I had to admit from where I was sitting he looked quite attractive. He had a strong back and shoulders, and a well defined, square jaw. His hair was unruly, sticking out in all sorts of directions. It was an unusual colour, similar to bronze. His eyebrows were furrowed and I noticed how long his fingers were when he reached for more food.

My cheeks filled with heat and I looked back down to my book. When I'd finished with Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy's happy romance I felt more bitterness than I had at home. Even the people in my books were leading happier lives than mine. That might sound a bit melodramatic, but considering my only experience in a relationship was a friend of the family for two months in high school, I was a little miffed. Not one guy since. Everyone who'd asked me out was clearly creepy.

I had this problem where I desperately wanted to fall in love. Ignore the fact that I'd never felt that strongly for someone before in my life, but being constantly surrounded by it, I became a dreamer. I wanted someone who would do the little things for me, who'd know me better than my best friends.

I was tired of sleeping alone at night, of not having someone to go to when I had something to say.

I was tired of feeling like nobody's somebody.

I sighed in frustration and packed up my bag. Alice and Rosalie would be gone out all night, and what was I to do? Sit alone like the pathetic single person that I was. Maybe I'd see if Angela wanted to do anything tonight. I picked up my garbage and went to dump it. The guy sitting by himself looked up at me when I moved closer to him. It was then that I saw how brightly green his eyes were. They were beautiful to say the least, and my eyes scanned him over quickly, noticing the way his grey t-shirt clung to his chest.

When I threw everything into the trash I turned back to grab my things. Being who I am of course I tripped in my own feet. It was never a shoelaces fault; it was always my awkward incompetent body. I barely caught myself on the edge of a table, causing it to jerk greatly and make the most awful noise as it bumped the chairs around it and screeched.

I heard soft, musical laughter behind me and looked over my shoulder at the guy sitting by himself. He was smiling beautifully, small creases forming at the corner of his eyes. He had his tea raised up to his mouth, but I suspect it was more to hide the fact that he was laughing.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "Are you okay?" My heart nearly thudded out of my chest at the sound of his voice.

"Yeah, sure," I stammered. "I'm fine. No harm done." He nodded and kept the easy going, happy smile on his face as he turned back to his book. My cheeks were so furiously red that I'd bet they were hotter than the sun. I pushed my things into my bag and slung it over my shoulder before walking past him towards the door.

He smiled at me and I found my heartbeat picking up and I tried weakly to smile back. Except... I think I might have grimaced at him, so I turned around and walked quickly outside the cafe. I hit my forehead as I walked across campus towards the bookstore. I should have said hello. I should have anything, since he looked like he would have been up for a chat. It didn't matter now. I probably wouldn't see him again except in passing around school.

I picked up the next book for my classic literature English course and walked towards the cash. I passed the woman the book and my eye caught a stack of postcards. I picked one up, and I'm not exactly sure why but I passed it to the cashier as well.

I walked home to the sounds of cars and people and the wind. I saw no green eyed, bronze haired, square-jawed boy when I glanced in the window of the cafe, so I went home to sit on the balcony of the apartment and started the new book.

Of course the first thing to be mentioned was the fact that the protagonist was in love. I groaned and shut the book immediately. I looked at the post card that I had started to use as a bookmark already. There was a picture of the largest building of the university, silhouetted with a big bright blue sky. University of Washington, Seattle was written across the picture in big loopy letters.

So what was I going to do with it? I let my head fall back and stared out over the lot of the apartment building at all the people walking, enjoying their sunny afternoons. I felt that if I had someone to share this afternoon with, maybe I would be having a better day.

I picked up my pen and wrote eight simple words on the back of the postcard before signing with my name. They were words that I wanted my own perfect guy to know, words that I wished would come true.

I packed up my things and went back inside, pulling the phone book out of a drawer in the kitchen and opening it to a random page in the Seattle section. I ran my finger down the page with my eyes closed and stopped.

"Masen, E," I murmured, writing down the address on the back of the postcard. I decided that I wanted to let someone know that I was looking for my perfect guy, and I wanted to tell this E Masen everything about him. But, I would start out small. This was my start to coming to terms with something I was never going to have.

I peeled off a stamp and slipped into my shoes to walk down to the sidewalk and drop the postcard into the mailbox. It seemed final now, and I had a mild sense of peace of mind. I could concentrate on my work, not feel so bitter, if at least one person out there knew what I was looking for.

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**There you have it!**

**Let me know what you guys think.**

**This is going to be very similar to Across the Ocean, firstly because each chapter will switch point of views, so Edward's is next.**

**Review!  
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	2. Edward

**I really do need to apologise for the time in between updates, but at the same time, I don't want to.**

**Here's how its been: I uploaded this with the intentiong of making almost weekly updates as it would help discipline me back into writing.  
However  
when I posted this, it was right before midterms. Then, after midterms I had all sorts of papers and assignments due, and now, tomorrow, is my first final exam.**

**I posting this to tide you over for after the 19th, which is when I'll be returning home for christmas and hopefully making more updates.**

**I'm sorry for how long it took, but please understand that I'm a second year University student and I have a lot of work to do- so I really don't need condescending reviews telling me to update on top of that.**

**I hope you guys like this chapter!  
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Chapter Two: Edward**

I swear to whoever, if one more girl comes in here and makes a double take at me before turning to her friend and giggling and trying to get her to slyly look over her shoulder at me, I am leaving and never coming back.

But that's a lie, of course.

I am _always_ in this cafe; in this same seat because this is where I saw her for the first time.

Last winter semester I had taken to running into this cafe for a coffee and oatcake on my way to classes in the morning. It was always windy and cold and sitting in my lecture hall for an eight o'clock am math class did nothing to keep me away, so grabbing food here was a must.

It was halfway through the semester and I was used to my morning routine. However, as the woman behind the counter filled my mug with coffee I overheard classmates of mine mention that class was cancelled for the morning. At first I was angry that I'd been dragged out of bed when I didn't have another class until ten, but then I resigned myself to catching up on homework.

I sat down and pulled out my notebook, shrugging out of my coat as I glanced around the cafe.

And then I saw her.

I froze in place, staring at her brown hair falling in loose curls over her shoulder, her lip trapped between her teeth as she looked over the paper in her hand and the book next to her mug. I stared as her lip showed up bright pink as she let it go to take a sip of her drink and then lean back in her seat, her legs stretching out in front of her.

It didn't escape my notice that even in the middle of winter she was wearing converse sneakers, which pretty much declared her to be my perfect girl.

I sat there, trying to focus on quadratic equations and I don't know what other kinds of useless crap I was supposed to know for this course that was an elective for my music degree, and I stared at her. I managed to get through maybe three problems before she stood up and left at 9:30, but in that two and a half hour period I felt like I'd begun to know her.

I knew that when she needed a break she'd let out a deep breath and stretch until she slumped in her seat and her head was face up to the ceiling. She'd close her dark eyes and relax for just a few moments before sitting up and popping a piece of her muffin into her mouth.

I knew when she didn't understand what she was reading she'd get this little crease between her brow and pucker her lips. When she got it she smiled quietly to herself.

I knew that when she was concentrating on what she was writing she'd bite her full bottom lip between her small, pretty teeth. Yeah, her teeth were pretty, too.

I knew that she stopped to watch people walk by the window often, not nearly as often as I watched her. She'd peer through the many posters for shows and concerts, people selling things that they'd taped to the window to watch couples- men walking small dogs, women walking big dogs. She'd smile knowingly before looking back at her papers almost sadly.

I don't know how I got through my work that morning, but when I realised I'd finished half of my paper and had fifteen minutes to get to my next class I quickly put my things away and forced myself out of the cafe. I spared one last look at her as she yawned behind her hand and smiled to myself.

I went back there on a regular basis.

I couldn't afford to skip my classes, but I found that if I left my coffee run to the last possible minute I could catch her coming in as I left.

Of course, over the summer I tried to forget about her but she was always in one corner of my mind, her smile managing to eclipse that of every girl I met. I spent the entire summer pining after this girl I didn't know and hadn't seen in months, and it was obvious to my friends that something was on my mind.

But here it is, Fall semester of my second year and I'm back in this cafe because of my regularly scheduled lunch break. God I'm hopeless.

I've been seated here for about fifteen minutes and I swear the girls giggling to each other and then looking over at me are enough to make me go mad. The annoying girls were eventually shooed away when a couple in the corner glared at them. This was normally a quiet place and their chattering was completely distracting.

I started reading over the book for my Popular Music class, picking away at a muffin and ignoring the tea in the mug next to me. I had a good ten minutes of solid reading before I looked up and stretched, glancing around the cafe.

Holy shit.

When had she come in? I hadn't heard the door, hadn't heard her take her order, yet there she was, reading a beaten up book and chewing slowly as she turned the last few pages.

Even after almost five months of summer she was still beautiful. Her hair was longer, curling slightly down her back and her converse must have been the same pair, still beaten up and dirty. She put down her book when she finished and stared out the window sadly. I saw her shoulders slump as she let out a heavy sigh and then began to pick up her garbage, moving around her table and heading towards the nearest bin.

Of course, that was across from me and I found myself staring. Even more surprising—she looked up at me.

In all the time I had spent here she had never once taken notice of me. This felt like an opportunity passed to me that I should take advantage of, but instead I just stared as she threw her things in the garbage. Then she gave me a show of how clumsy she was.

This was something new about her. The few times I'd seen her sitting the clumsiest she would get would be to drop her pencil on the floor, or hit her elbow. Outside in the winter it only made sense for her to slip on the sidewalk and catch herself against a fence or the side of the building. I definitely didn't expect her to trip on her shoe laces and fall into the table and chairs near mine.

Her face turned such a cute shade of red I couldn't help but laugh a little and when she looked up at me horrified at my reaction, I knew now was the time to try and speak to her.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" I asked. Her face turned an even brighter shade of red and my smile grew exponentially.

"Yeah, sure. I'm fine. No harm done," she stammered before turning away from me and pushing her things back into her bag. I watched her sling the bag over her shoulder and grab her keys before walking back towards me—or rather, towards the door.

She looked up from the curtain of her dark hair to look at me and I offered her a smile, hoping she knew that she had no reason to be embarrassed. She gave me a small, shy smile before pushing the door open and walking down the sidewalk, shaking her head to herself.

"Well," I sighed. There was no possible way I could get any more work done. The distraction she provided me was enough to keep me rethinking through our meeting for the rest of the day. I walked home with a smile on my face bright enough to make my cheeks hurt. I passed the bookstore on my way home and was practically skipping across the street to the neighbourhood close by where Jasper and I had rented out a house.

Both my roommates, Jasper's friend Emmett being the other, were gone out with their lady friends for the night, so I settled in with a movie and my laptop on the couch. I remember thinking, before I fell asleep, that maybe this school year wouldn't be so bad. It had started out on a good note.

"Hey Edward," Jasper called, jerking me awake. I looked around, sunshine was pouring in through the living room window, my laptop was on the floor and the TV was off—there was a blanket thrown over me.

"Wake up man," he said with a yawn. "I thought I was the one out last night."

"Sorry," I grinned, getting up and stretching, accepting a cup of coffee from him. "I was up late last night."

"I saw, had to take your laptop, I thought you were going to drop it," he chuckled. "Of course, you had a death grip on it, even in your sleep."

I glanced at the clock and saw that I still had an hour before my first class. I heard Emmett's alarm go off and then a bang as he attempted to turn it down. A moan followed and Jasper and I both laughed. At least he was awake now.

"I feel like the first day of real classes calls for a decent breakfast, don't you?" Jasper asked with a smile as he pulled out the eggs.

"I'll go get the mail," I smiled, slipping on sandals and stepping outside.

The newspaper was hung on our doorknob and I reached into the mailbox and felt a few envelopes as I watched people walking down the street, backpacks attached. I heard the sizzle of the frying pan inside and Jasper's knife working as the shower turned on down the hall. Normally I'd get grumpy that I had to wait for the bathroom, but Emmett was seriously the fastest. He brought his toothbrush and razor in with him and was done in less than ten minutes in total.

I flipped through the bills and flyers taken in from the mail and tried to listen to what Jasper was talking about, but wasn't, to be honest.

In my hand was a postcard with a picture of UW on it, the very buildings I went to school in. On the back was our address, with my initial and last name added to the top. There was one stamp askew in the corner.

My brows furrowed as I stared at the tiny, loopy words written in the center of the card.

"I want to fall in love with you."


	3. Letters

**Hey, everyone! I'm sorry this chapter took a bit of time- admittedly I wrote a chapter of Camarilla in the time between the last update and this one, and I have been opening this document every day in my free time and writing little bits.**

**My first week of classes are over, and in that time I had to read several Robert Browning poems that I didn't understand, along with an entire novel that I was tested on friday past. This semester seems like it's going to be really interesting, but I think I have about six more novels to read by the end of it, so you can understand if it takes a while, right? That being said when I get reviews something along the lines of 'do you realise how long it's taking you to update? You can't just stop updating your stories, we've been waiting a long time, so update.' or 'you need to start updating and make it frequent.' It really doesn't help. In fact, it just makes me really angry and disheartened and it makes me stop writing for a while.**

**In other news: I'm going to try out something like an updating schedule, but I'm not going to tell you about it in case it doesn't work! Haha. There's a new post on my livejournal and profile you guys might want to check out, and I think that might be it! So until next time, I hope you enjoy :)  
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**Chapter 3: Letter  
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The days after mailing the postcard went on as days do. They were normal, average, everyday-days. Nothing was out of the ordinary. We had our first day of classes and there was a rainstorm, and an episode of Rosalie's favourite show was cancelled for a baseball game, but how was this any different from any other Seattle September.

I made it through my first week of classes with smiles. My profs were interesting, as was the course material of my classes, and I was genuinely excited for this semester. I loaded my iPod with new music over the few nights home alone and browsing similar artists to the ones I had, and now I was fully prepared for the walk to school and bus rides around the city.

I awoke early in the morning of a day that was different than the past few had been. Alice and Rose didn't have classes until the afternoon, but this was my busy day, school early in the morning, and classes almost constantly until after the girls had gone to school.

I dressed in jeans I'd been given that were too long, folding up the cuffs since I'd never gotten them tailored. I pulled on a plain grey v neck and a black button up sweater, leaving my hair in its wavy mess before slipping on my converse, grabbing my bag and breakfast and quietly going out the door.

It didn't escape my notice that there were two larger pairs of shoes lined up next to ours. I smiled for my friends to have warm company to wake up to, but at the same time there was that small twinge in my stomach that wished I had the same.

I walked to school picking off pieces of my bagel and trying not to sing along to the music too loudly, for fear that I'd scare the people on the sidewalks.

My classes that day were disastrous. I was completely incapable of concentrating and was called upon by my professor to answer a question on some 19th century poem that I had no idea about. I was certain before that he reminded me of some cartoon super villain, but the look he gave me when I told him I didn't know solidified my thoughts.

In my next class my prof assigned a ridiculous amount of reading for the next class, as well as a quiz next week on a book I hadn't read yet. The classes after that continued in the same manner, piles and piles of work being loaded upon my classmates and I, making my brain go into overdrive as I tried to figure out when I'd get the time to do it all.

I took a break for lunch and walked towards my usual cafe, planning on sitting in my usual seat, getting my usual meal, and reading, as per usual.

Of course, two feet away from the front entrance I tripped on my own feet and fell to the sidewalk, my bag falling open and my books falling out. I'd managed to catch my fall on one of my novels for class, which ripped some of the pages and rubbed them against the concrete so badly they were illegible. I scraped the heels of my hands two, and they were red and sore.

I sat back on my heels and sniffled, my anger at the day and my clumsiness bringing on its familiar tears. I wiped at my eyes as I picked up the few things I owned and shoved them into my bag, grabbing my notes and books and putting them in while looking forlornly through the pages of my destroyed novel.

I heard the bell over the door of the cafe jingle and looked up while I pushed myself onto my feet. I froze once I was standing and watched the back of that beautiful grey-t-shirt-wearing-ridiculously-good-looking-bronze-haired boy walk away. He was fixing the hood of his sweater, pulling out from underneath the strap of his messenger back, and I stood, staring at his fingers as they worked and then pushed their way through his hair, ending up in his pockets.

I wanted to call out to him—and then what? I recognized him because he was gorgeous and he laughed at me when I was clumsy. So I'd call out to him and what would happen? We'd talk about the weather, how the food here was good, and 'See you around some time, good luck at school'. That's all she wrote.

I sighed and shook my head at myself. It's not like I knew him. I shouldn't be so attached.

I walked into the cafe and ordered food to go, shoving my sandwich into my bag and taking my cardboard cup of tea, heading for the bookstore to replace the novel I'd ruined. I couldn't put it off because I needed most of it read for the next class.

Since it was still close to the beginning of the school year there were quite a few people in the store. I squeezed my way through the students browsing, dodged the employees who were far too eager to offer help, and headed for the other end of the store and the English section. I picked up a copy of the book, frowning from my grumpiness over needing to get a second copy, and my entire day in general. The line up at the beginning of the store was long, and everyone in front of me had their arms laden with textbooks and manuals.

I figured if I'd be in this line for a while I might as well start reading, so I opened to roughly where I'd left off before the great fall of '09 and started in, staying close to the person in front of me as a guide for when I had to move ahead in line.

The line zigzagged up to the registers, and when I looked up from the book I was smack in the middle—there were people in front of me, and on either side. I stretched and closed the book, not feeling up to reading so much and decided to people watch.

My eyes drifted to the cubby holes for book bags to be dropped upon entering the store. The pudgy security guards watched the entrance and the people coming and going while trying to look tough at the same time. I stepped to the front of my row of people, waiting to turn into the last line and looked at the students pushing their bags into cubbies, or just dropping them on the floor.

I watched a boy set his bag down, pull his wallet from it and straightened up, fixing the hood of his jacket as he went. He turned around and I completely froze, staring at the head of reddish brown hair framing his pale face. His eyes danced around the store, sizing up the line and stepping out of the way of a girl who stared at him as he walked past.

Somehow, in his perusal of the line up his eyes met mine. He didn't stop walking, but his eyes seemed to brighten when he saw me, they searched all over my face and flicked down to the book in my hand, offering me a tiny smile before he looked away. Because I'm an idiot I didn't smile back, or anything of the sort. Instead I kept watching him, and the butterflies in my stomach must have laid a million eggs, hatched them, formed cocoons and hatched again because of how strong they were. It never escaped my notice that his smile grew wider when he looked away to the floor.

I wanted, more than anything, to find some excuse to waste my time around the front of the store, around where my bag and his sat side by side, as if they'd arranged to meet at that spot. I tried not to touch his bag when I picked up mine, which was ridiculous. What did I think, it would curse me? I would forever moon over a beautiful boy I didn't know?

Probably.

I pulled my bag over my shoulder and straightened out my clothes. Looking up my eyes were drawn straight to his, standing in the same spot of the line up, smiling at me so crookedly it was nearly perfect. He must have noticed where my bag had been left, maybe he was thinking the same things as me? I gave him a tiny smile before the heat filled up my cheeks and I hurried outside.

I walked home but it was more like dancing. I was cheerful but it was more like I was on Cloud Nine. I listened to music but it was more like I consumed the music, my arms and fingers moved to the beats, my head shook back in forth, and I was full out singing. There were even air drums.

I don't know why just _seeing_ someone from a distance and not actually talking to him was enough to make me so ridiculously happy, but I was glad it happened. I hadn't felt this light and carefree in a while.

I opened up the door to the apartment and was singing at the top of my lungs, which probably wasn't the best idea since Emmett and Rosalie were sitting in the living and jumped up surprised as I threw my bag down the hallway. I just ignored them. I started sliding across the kitchen in my socks, still singing and doing poor arm movements to match whatever dancing I was doing.

Vaguely I heard Emmett laughing and then it was quiet for a second. He pulled my iPod away from me and stuck it on the dock, and then the three of us were dancing and singing, spinning with one another and doing hip checks. Emmett made me scream when he scooped me up while I was trying to pour a drink, but my own laughter made it too hard to stay surprised.

"You are in an awful good mood today, Miss Bella," Emmett said, wheezing as he set me down.

"I am indeed, you are apparently out of shape, Sir Emmett," I jabbed him in the ribs and he doubled over.

"Still working out every day, babe. Want to see?" He lifted up his arms to flex—or grab me, I wasn't sure. I laughed, either way.

"No, I definitely don't want tickets to your gun show." Emmett pouted but I could see the smile tugging at his lips. "What are you guys doing tonight?"

"Nothing, really," Rose sighed. "Emmett and I are going to go over a few things for our physics class, but that's it."

"Want me to make us supper?" I was in a good mood, and feeling generous.

"Only if I can help," Emmett grinned. We set to work on some chicken, moving about the kitchen and trying not to bump into each other as I told Emmett where to find the things we needed. We sat down and talked about some of Rose's homework while we waited for the chicken to bake, and then I retreated from all the science talk to make a risotto.

I stood there stirring the rice, swaying to the music still playing in our kitchen and found my eyes wandering to the dining room. Emmett was leaning over Rose, pointing things out and speaking quietly into her ear. She nodded and pointed to something on the paper, scribbling things out with her pencil and then turning her head towards him, asking for affirmation. He grinned and turned to kiss her sweetly on her lips. I looked away.

Something shifted in my mood, and I really didn't mean for it to happen. I shouldn't feel this way, they were my friends, and I wanted them to be happy—so why couldn't I stand being around them? Emmett came in to put vegetables on to boil while I finished up the rice. I knew he could probably pick up on the change in my mood. I smiled weakly at him, hoping it would make do for the time being.

Emmett and I dished up plates of food, leaving enough left over for Alice. I noticed that Rosalie had moved her books to make room for me to sit at the table, but I pretended I just didn't see it. I picked up a can of soda and my plate of food, smiling at them as I went down the hallway and into my bedroom, slumping down in front of my desk.

I pulled out paper and a pen and somehow managed to write while putting small portions of food into my mouth.

_Dear E,_

_I must first apologise for my postcard, and how strange it must be to receive mail like this. I'll understand completely if this gets nowhere, if you block these letters from getting to you. Please understand, this is an exercise in keeping my sanity. I have no idea who you are—to be perfectly honest I literally picked your name and address from the phonebook. I just wanted to get this down, and the act of mailing it gives me a sense of closure._

_When I say I want to fall in love with you, I mean it. I have been alone my whole life. I've dated about four guys but quickly realised that they weren't up to the standards I have given myself. Perhaps my standards are too high. _

_I live with two girls, both very good friends of mine and they both have boyfriends. Whenever I go to ask them to do something—watch a movie, go out to eat, or just do homework together—I sometimes catch them on their way out for a date. And they're just so happy. I love seeing my friends so content with where they are in life, how can I be mad at them?_

_I guess I'm just bitter, doomed to a life of loneliness, though I suppose it won't be too bad when I'm old and wrinkled with fifteen cats and a room full of books. My vacuum may give out early on from the amount of hair Mittens 1-15 will shed, but who knows, maybe it's worth it?_

_I just want a someone. I want to be someone's someone. I want to hold hands, go for walks, do homework in the kitchen together. I am the only girl I know who wants to fall in love so badly, yet has never been in love._

_I don't know how often I'll send letters. I don't even know if you're a man or a woman. I know that this is helping me. I know that if no one ever sees these then that's perfectly alright. Have you ever noticed that telling a stranger truths about you that no one else knows is very therapeutic? That's how I feel right now._

_Written words are easier for me. I get nervous and fumble around men, and writing it this way is almost romantic, isn't it? Who knows._

_I hope you don't get frightened by this. And I hope you know this is helping._

_Love, B._

I sighed. It wasn't as long as I wanted it to be, but I needed to pace myself, If I blurted out everything I wanted to say then I might wind up angry and upset. There was always next week.

I looked through the box under my desk full of odds and ends my mother had given me and found both an envelope and a booklet of stamps. I wrote down the address I'd copied from the phonebook last week and hesitated at the return address. I didn't know who this person was. Would they leave me alone? Come to the apartment and hack us up in our sleep? Yell at me? I left it blank.

I brought my dishes out to the kitchen with the envelope tucked into my pocket and giggled when a mussed up Emmett jumped off of Rosalie on the couch, attempting to look calm and collected as he snatched up the remote, like he'd always been there. Rosalie was lying back and panting, smiling at me with droopy eyes that just made me laugh loudly.

I slipped on an old pair of sandals and skipped down the three flights of stairs to the main lobby as quickly as possible without tripping and falling and breaking my neck which was a pretty good possibility. I dropped the letter into the mailbox and patted the top, as if conceding that it was sealing my fate.


	4. Beards

**Hello!**

**My first lapse in the updating schedule has been made! Yesterday I missed it because of how busy I was with schoolwork, and this week it's late! Admittedly I had this written about 11am this morning, but then got Lupus to read it over, and then didn't have time to upload it until now because of all the running around I was doing!**

**Sorry guys! I'll try and get back on track, though midterms are coming up and papers are due soon too!**

**I don't know where the title of this chapter came from.**

**I'd like to point your attention to some links on my profile, including my Tumblr which I update semi regularly if you're interested, and my blog that I write entries outside of fanfiction in!**

**Also, I spent hours and hours tonight sharing ghost stories with my friends, so if you have one that you've heard or that's happened to you, I'd love to read it in the comments or a pm!  
**

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Chapter 4: Beards  
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I wiped my hands in my jeans as I walked down the driveway. The envelope in my pocket was heavy and foreign and practically begging me to read it. I let out a heavy sigh and pulled it out, unfolding it and looking at my address neatly printed on the front.

It was the third letter in twice as many weeks. Aside from the first postcard I'd found a letter two weeks ago that eased my concerns a little. This person writing to me had no idea who I was, and was writing to her ideal of a lover, or boyfriend, or companion—not to me.

I pulled out the letter and noticed immediately that there were a couple of different pen colours. I found myself calming down at the 'Dear E,' and the realness of pens running out of ink.

_Dear E,_

_I'm sure you've witnessed or at least heard of girls talking about their ideals and expectations in their perfect guy. They talk about straight white teeth, and musical ability, and a fit body rippled with muscles and tall-dark-and-handsome, perfect shade of brown hair, perfect blue eyes and money._

_I never had those._

_I don't think when I was younger that I thought of what constitutes a perfect guy, and I've never really thought of it recently, either. A and R, my roommates found their diaries from when they were in junior high and laughed about some of the things they wrote, including what they'd listed for the 'perfect' guy._

_What I'm trying to get at is that we then had an in depth conversation on how much we've changed and what we would consider our perfect guy today._

_A wanted someone to respect her, to be able to accept that she was an independent woman who wanted to start and manage her own business. She wanted someone to know that she wasn't the kind of person that needed help all the time, but would accept it when needed. She wanted someone who would pay for little things and nights out but would let her do her share, too. Someone talented and independent and funny was her criteria- tall and blonde were additional, optional features._

_R was big on appearance, though she insisted it wasn't all that mattered. She wanted someone buff—muscles rippling all day every day, pretty much. She thought dimples were cute. What really mattered was his sense of humour. She wanted someone smart who could always make a joke out of anything and never got too down. Interest in cars was a plus._

_We all laughed as we talked about it because they realised that they'd just described their boyfriends to a T. Then they turned to me._

_"I really don't know, you guys," I said. Of course they pestered me for a better answer. "Someone who looks good in just about anything. Someone smart, someone taller and stronger than me so he can get the heavy things on the top shelf. Someone who knows how to spell and use proper grammar and has a big vocabulary."_

_"That's not all that matters right? Don't you have a 'type'?" R asked._

_"I guess so, but like you guys said that's not all that's important, is it?" They just stared at me so I finally answered with "if he has glasses he is immediately ten times more attractive to me. The ability to grow a full fledged beard is also a plus." They laughed, but it's true. I don't know what it is about guys in glasses but it is a serious factor in attraction for me. The beard bit? There's something strongly masculine about a guy and how much facial hair he can grow. I'm not saying I'd like someone with constant scruff and beard issues; I like it when guys are clean shaven. But if for some reason he was growing a beard and there was not a patch in sight—come take me now._

I stopped where I was at the crosswalk across from the school and stared at the paper. What were the chances I would read this on the day I'd slept in and been unable to shave or slip in my contacts? I pushed my glassed back up and scratched the hair that was already rapidly growing in since yesterday morning.

I hurried across and entered the arts building, planning on making my way to the other side and outside to the cafe to grab breakfast.

_I don't want someone solely for their appearance. I want their personality and the little things. Someone who would appreciate and crave the same things that I do. I want to pretend it's you—believe it's you. We've just never met, and we probably never will._

_I want to wear your sweatshirt to bed and talk to you until sunrise. I want to sneak outside and watch stars with you. I want to play your favourite video game and watch horror movies and video games with you. I want to build a snow fort and have snowball fights with you, and then come inside and drink hot chocolate by the fire while we talk about life to warm up. I want to read a book with you or next to you while you work. I want to kiss you and laugh with you until I can't breathe. I want to hold hands. I want to fall hopelessly in love with you._

_Those are the little things that matter._

_Love, B._

This woman was amazing. I'd never read anything so eloquent and true and right about love and the things people should expect from one another. None of the other women I'd ever met had as firm a grasp on the things that mattered as this one inexperienced girl. I stopped to slip the letter back into its envelope and the envelope into my book. She'd written several pages double sided with several different pens. I could see where the ink ran out in some parts, or she'd pick up after a paragraph in a different colour like she'd been moving around and writing it all day.

It was dated as yesterday. She did that on her letters it seemed, since both the postcard and the last letter had dates. She was local, that was for sure, since the first thing every morning I'd have a letter in my mailbox.

I walked through the atrium of the arts building while reading a text from Emmett and held open the door since I could hear someone walking towards me.

"Thank you," a quiet voice said and I looked up in time enough to see that pretty girl and her long brown hair slip past me into the building.

She was an Arts student, maybe, so perhaps that was why I'd never seen her around too often. I wanted to go back inside and catch her as she picked up a newspaper and say something along the lines of 'Hello, how have you been,' in the hopes that she'd remember me and follow up with something like 'how about we go grab some coffee at that cafe?' I wanted to know if she actually read the articles in the newspaper or if she just looked at the comics. What would be the chances that she'd actually do the crossword?

But then I realised that I didn't know her, at all. No matter how pretty she was and how much I'd like to know her, she was already heading down a hallway and I'd been standing at this open door for too long. Despite the things I'd like to say what would probably come out would be 'Ah, uh, er you're pretty I like muffins and crosswords.'

I'm an idiot, I know this.

I got my breakfast, by myself, and went through my classes for the day, thinking of the letter the entire time.

I made myself supper that night, and did all my work. Emmett and Jasper had gone out with their girlfriends and the house was a strange kind of silent.

I pulled on a sweater and walked to the cinema, picking up a ticket for myself and a bag of M&M's. Seeing movies by myself was an activity I rarely took part in, but enjoyed immensely. Being completely alone in a crowded room, watching the same thing with other people and not feeling obligated to reach out to anyone or offer any opinions left me feeling at ease. Not to mention I really wanted to see this movie.

I'd paid the cashier and turned around when I saw her. That same pretty girl that had been on my mind for weeks was standing feet away, slowly following two other girls. She looked up after she took a drink from the smallest cup they offered and met my eyes.

I smiled at her and she offered me one back, and we both laughed at the identical bag of candy in our hands. She grinned at me and offered a small wave as she walked into the theatre behind her friends. I went into my movie alone, sitting down in a row that no one else bothered to sit in, and tried to focus on the story being told out to me, and trying to ignore the girl one theatre over. She was wearing a hat that flopped in the back and made her bangs curl in front of her eyes and making her look so cute I couldn't help the smile on my face.

Eventually I put her out of my mind. The movie was equal parts comedy and action and was all around a good watch. I stuffed the half empty bag into my pocket as I left, shuffling past the couples who'd stopped for a little PDA.

The lobby was full of people hurrying out of their movies, talking loudly about how 'epic' it was when really they just meant 'good' or 'awesome' or 'an excellent metaphor for the human nature'. I threw my drink into the garbage and heard a small 'Hello'.

She was standing right in front of me. Her floppy hat was still intact, her plaid button down shirt left open to reveal a band t shirt I had no time to read because I was so intent on looking at her face this close up.

I'd been wrong before. She wasn't just pretty, she was beautiful—stunning. A natural beauty that one didn't see these days. She wore no makeup and still looked classic and gorgeous and everything I'd pictured in a woman.

Then I remembered the letter. Appearances weren't everything. I'd set this girl on a golden pedestal based solely on her face and slender frame, her curves that stood out to me from all the too-thin small rats.

"Hey," I said with a smile. "Did you enjoy your movie?"

"Yes," she said happily. "Though I could have done without the couples making out next to me." She rolled her eyes. "I'm waiting for them now." She motioned over her shoulder to the bathroom. I watched as she popped an M&M into her mouth and practically stared at her lips as she chewed.

"Was yours good?" she asked to break me from the daze I was in.

"It was, thanks. Nothing beats watching a movie by yourself." She smiled so warmly her eyes lit up and little crinkles formed at their corners. _Cute_.

"I love that, seeing a movie by myself. It's really private, don't you think? It makes seeing it all the better. You don't need to whisper little jokes about the lines to the person you're with or worry about how you look when you slump down." My heart skipped a beat.

"Exactly. You see movies often?" She nodded.

"My roommates spend a lot of time with their boyfriends so I tend to make time for myself. Otherwise I'd go insane with the love fest happening in my apartment." I laughed with her.

"I can understand that. Anyway, I'm going to be going. Got to beat the traffic." Never mind the fact I hadn't driven, I just really didn't want to get run over at the cross walks.

"Nice seeing you," She said sweetly and I admired the curve of her lips again.

"See you around," I waved and had to force myself from skipping out of there. She was beautiful, mind bogglingly beautiful and understood things the way I did.

I was unlocking my front door when I realised I hadn't asked her name.


End file.
